Adelaine
by Shatterr
Summary: Adelaine Nashton tries to be a normal middle-schooler. Not gonna happen when her dad is the Riddler. But what happens when Bruce Wayne suspiciously starts intervening in her life? Currently on hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

I begrudgingly got out of bed, pushing my plain brown hair out of my face. I stared at the mirror across the wall. God, I hated that plain brown hair. It was so freaking plain.

My dad said he loved it. Said it was just like his, so it was awesome. I don't know. It looks good on him. Everything does. But nothing looks good on me. Not even his bright green eyes. Sometimes I wonder what I even inherited from my mom: I look just like Dad.

My dad was a good person. He made me laugh, he made me smile, he made me giggle and sometimes even roll around the floor holding my stomach because I was laughing so hard.

I tried so hard to push everything I knew about him to the back of my head. I tried so hard. So. Hard.

He never told me about his "night job". Of course, I'd hear him rant all evening about his wonderful discoveries at Wayne Enterprises, about how he figured out the most amazing invention and how the man in the cubicle to the right always has dramatic phone calls with his wife. But never about his "night job".

I only ever heard about it through the newspapers and the kids at school. But the kids at school barely talked about it. They were scared and their parents hushed them.

"Did you hear about the man on the news last night? The question mark guy?"

"That's the Riddler! He scares the crap out of me. Makes me want to study more and all that..."

"He killed Emma's father, you know. Two nights ago."

"...Really? Emma's? The cop?"

"Yeah, it's scary, isn't it? We could be next."

And I'd think to myself; 'How could anyone be so scared of my dad? He's such a funny guy most of the time, and he was definitely nice enough to me.' And every time I'd ask him why people were so afraid of him, he'd shrug it off, say something silly like, "Scared I'll outsmart them" or "Scared that I'm way better looking".

Sometimes things my dad said really bothered me though.

We were watching TV together; a rare occasion because he was usually at his "night job" and I was usually doing my homework. But tonight was a peaceful night. Nothing much to do. No homework and apparently no work for the Riddler.

My dad seemed to be bored of most everything that was on: nothing satisfied him besides Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, which didn't come on for another 10 minutes He stopped on a reality show about weight. It made me squirm. I was definitely uncomfortable.

"Look at that fat, blubbering whale. I can't believe people like that really think their lives are good."

Sometimes it felt like my dad forgot that I was overweight, too. He made comments about everyone else, and though he had never said anything directly to me, it hurt me a lot every time he did. I wondered if he even thought about it.

Maybe I wasn't as drastically in need of help as the woman on the screen, but it was definitely enough for me to get teased about it growing up and for me to be self-conscious about it.

Me and my dad have never discussed it whatsoever. No conversations about exercise or healthier eating are ever mentioned. I've never told him when someone would make fun of me at school.

I didn't say anything. I pretended I was asleep, closing my eyes and leaning my head on my shoulder opposite his side. I wanted him to just stop talking or change the channel. Either one, or both, would be very nice.

"I mean, can't people take care of themselves? Oh, I guess not, people these days-so ignorant, so naive. I can't stand it. Am I the only individual who has any intellectual ability whatsoever? Oh, of course you do, Adelaine. I know you do, too. Speaking of which, how did that math test go?"

I groaned. He knew I was awake. No way to avoid it now. "I got 100."

"Good girl." He grinned, wrapping an arm around me. I breathed, glad he was happy with the results I had worked hard to get. I grimaced and shrugged. I still felt bad about what he had said about the woman and reached for the remote and changed the channel myself. He didn't question me. And I was relieved.

Good. It was 6:00. Time for Jeopardy. The whole subject of grades and fat people, both very sensitive subjects for me, would be swept completely under our dusty green carpet and be forgotten about: at least for now.

My dad ended up talking through the whole show. If he wasn't answering the questions before the contestants, he was explaining complicated scientific formulas from work.

Sometimes I was really annoyed with how he never shut up about work. I mean, I wasn't even really that good at science and I didn't really know much about it. The stuff he told me never really made sense.

But when I thought about it, I realized I'd rather hear about his day job.

12 years and I've never asked him about that night job.

At 6:30, it was Wheel of Fortune. Great. His other favorite show. It was a similar experience. One hour of pain, basically. I swore my dad just loved to hear himself talk.

"No homework tonight, Adelaine?" He stood up, stretching and looking down at me as the show ended.

I nodded no and he closed his eyes and yawned, then adjusted his glasses. "Well, I'll be off then."

"What? I thought you weren't working tonight!" I cried, honestly upset. Even though I was a little bitter when spending time with my father, I actually loved and cherished the time very much.

"Something has arisen. Go to bed, Adelaine. I'll come check in on you when I get back."

"But Dad, it's only 7:00..."

"Go to bed, Adelaine." He repeated sternly.

I nodded and dragged myself to my small bedroom. I closed the door and wondered where the hell my dad was going all the sudden. I sighed.

I felt sad. But whatever, I didn't have a choice.

Since there was nothing much else to do, I studied my Greek vocabulary terms for two hours, then as my eyes started to get blurry, I turned off my lamp and flopped down in my bed.

9:09 and my dad still wasn't home...

I tried to sleep but I just couldn't. Time kept on rolling, 9:39, 9:53, 10:12, 10:46, 10:48, 10:49...

God, it was getting SLOWER AND SLOWER. I swore the clock had never moved so slow in my life. Then I heard my door open and I gave a small gasp. It was startling and completely unexpected. I hadn't heard anyone enter the apartment in the first place, but then realized I was most likely too caught up in the clock.

I smelled my dad's cologne and felt instantly at comfort and ease. He sat down on my bed and looked at me. The light was shining in from the kitchen down the hall from the open door. I could see that he was wearing one of his many green question mark suits and a green bowler. Typical. How stupid of me to think he was actually out doing something good for once? Pretty stupid, and I'd better not say anything unless I wanted to hear just exactly how stupid it was for the next couple weeks.

He took off the bowler and looked at me. I felt his gaze. It was heavy and a little haunting. I could tell he had killed someone tonight and I wondered why.

"Have you been sleeping this whole time?" his voice was so gentle and it was almost like everything I had just realized that he had done didn't even matter, because he was my DAD and he was the best dad ever and I'd love him forever and ever, even if he did mess up sometimes.

"No...I was worried about you." I said, a small pout on my face.

"Never worry about me." He kissed my forehead then tucked the covers around me.

"But what you do is dangerous..what about the Batman?"

The Batman. I had nightmares about him pretty frequently. I was so horrified of what he might do to my dad. I hated him and I hated hearing about him, almost as much as I hated hearing about the bad things my father did to people.

He chuckled heartily and it made me feel like everything was just okay. "The Batman is no match for me, my sweet. He is so stupid: just a big, black, bumbling bat. Riddle me this," he leaned forward, close to my face, and I smelled his aftershave so strongly and it made me smile, "Who is the biggest idiot, yet has something that is smaller than all the rest?"

I giggled hard, knowing the answer immediately. "Batman! His brain is smaller than everyone else's 'cause he's stupid! But since he's the stupidest of them all, he's the biggest idiot!"

"Exactly." He kissed my forehead then down my eyes and to my cheeks, gave one on each, then pulled away and stood up, picking up his bowler. "Goodnight, Adelaine. Get some rest, it's very late."

"Goodnight Daddy." I called and snuggled up to my pillow, still smelling the smell of my father. I was suddenly at peace and it was okay to fall asleep. I felt okay. Like things were good again after all that worrying.

It didn't hit me until the next morning, where I was grabbing a Pop-tart and catching the school bus when I saw kids holding up newspapers and covering their mouths. Dread hit me. Like a huge lead ball was thrown onto the bottom of my stomach. Like I was going to get sick. Like I was going to cry. Like I was dying inside.

Who would be dead today and why?


	2. Chapter 2

I plugged my earbuds in my ears and turned up the volume on my mp3 player pretty loud. I didn't want to hear anything. I really didn't.

The day went pretty smoothly until citizenship studies class came about. Of course, we had to listen to current events, and of course, my dad was the headline. He had killed some woman I didn't know, but when I saw the picture I felt a little sicker than usual. She was a pretty heavy woman, quite overweight. I just couldn't help but wonder if it was because of what we had watched that night.

Did it bother him that much? And why? She didn't do anything to hurt anyone.

I bit my lip and shook my head no. I wasn't going to doubt my dad's judgment. It made things harder. He must have had a really good reason for killing her.

And I didn't let myself hear much otherwise.

As I was leaving class, a boy, Josh, an 8th grader whom I despised greatly, threw milk at me from lunch. It went all over my clothes, and made me quite cold. I stood there in shock for a couple seconds, tears welling up in my green eyes. My teacher came and comforted me but nothing would help. She offered a change of clothes but when I looked at the t-shirts in the lost and found, they were all X-Smalls or Smalls.

Wow. Nice way to rub in the fact that I'm a Large.

I nodded no and cried harder, pretending that I was upset about the stains in my clothes. I really didn't care. It was more of that Josh wouldn't leave me alone and I had no idea how to stop it.

But like the teacher could read my mind, she said, "Sweetie, is Josh bothering you?"

I nodded without saying anything else.

"I see..I'll try to take care of it."

"It's okay, really..I'm fine."

"Bullying is not fine, Ms. Nashton. I won't tolerate it."

I nodded shyly and walked off to my next class late, wiping the tears out of my eyes. I didn't usually cry, but with all that emotional build up from previous events that day, I was just worn the hell out.

When I got home, my dad was sitting cross-legged on the couch with the paper in front of his face. When I came in and put my bag down, he put it down. "Adelaine?"

"What?" I said glumly. My day was not so good, and I wasn't in the mood to listen to my father's bragging.

"We need to talk. A father and daughter talk."

I raised an eyebrow and sat next to him. He put down the paper and uncrossed his legs, looking at me with a very serious expression. "Who is this Josh buffoon?"

A loud groan escaped my mouth and I held my face in both hands. Oh GOD, did my teacher TELL him? I was freaking out. The last thing I needed was for Josh to be murdered. "No one. He's. NO. ONE." I moaned, rubbing my temples.

"He is, indeed. Why didn't you tell me about this? Apparently it has been going on all year."

I got up from the couch. "Dad, I really can't talk about this right now. I really just can't. I had a horrible day."

"Why don't you tell me-"

"Because I don't want the Riddler to OFF everyone who BOTHERS me a little!" I cry, tears forming in my eyes. I ran to my bedroom and laid on my bed sobbing. I thought about what I had just said after a couple minutes, and it made me feel guilty.

My dad was doing his best. I know he was. He wasn't a bad person at all. He was just trying to protect me, and I shouldn't have blown up on him like that...

But maybe this is all part of his little mind game. He played those often with the other people, maybe he's playing one with me, too? I had no idea. I didn't even know anymore. He really was a GOOD PERSON. When he was Eddie Nashton, anyway.

Nigma was someone I didn't really know and didn't want to think about.

But I don't have to, right? All children have parents who go to work. My dad's job is just a little different, maybe to make up for my mother's lack of presence.

So it was completely normal. This was all completely-

"Adelaine." He opened the door and came in quickly, sitting next to me and wrapping an arm around me. I smelled his cologne. It was always comforting. I had no idea why. Maybe it was because the smell was him, just as it always had been since I was little. Just him.

No Riddler.

No Batman.

No death.

No riddles.

No question marks.

Just Dad. That's what it smelled like.

"What?" I said, trying to act bitter by crossing my arms and looking away, coldly shrugging away from his embrace.

"Riddle me this," he started.

I was so close to cutting him off this time. I really didn't want to hear a riddle, but I listened anyway. I couldn't stop him. It was...I just couldn't. Not a riddle. Not the one thing he truly loved. I'd never want to hurt him like that. I had hurt him enough tonight. I had said some mean things...

"What is small and cute and brown with green question marks all over?"

"This is so cheesy, Dad." I choked out a laugh.

"Wrong, it's you." he kissed my head and rocked me in a big hug, like he did when I was really young.

I laughed more and he laughed a little too. His jokes never really seemed to get old to me. They were always funny. No matter how horrible or corny or overused they were.

"Now let's have some ice cream. I picked some up after work."

I couldn't deny ice cream. My dad really knew how to always win me over, even when I was mad at him. And he always got me to forget what was troubling me for the time being.

I loved that about him. All I had to listen to was about his workday and colleagues, and about puzzles he had solved in the past and his own success in school.

He was a good dad. I really believed that. And a part of me believed he tried so hard because my grandpa hadn't been a very nice one. But Dad always made everything okay when it all seemed to come crashing down on me.

It was like every time it happened it got more and more overwhelming, but he never failed to cheer me up. Ever. And I always got right back up on my feet again afterward.

I went to school the next day and realized it was particularly quiet. I passed the auditorium on the way to my homeroom, and saw a large sign written in marker that said "WE LUV U 4EVER JOSH. RIP."

My heart sank and I wondered when and how he had done it.


	3. Chapter 3

The whole day was quiet. No one said a word. A lot of students, especially the upperclassmen that had known Josh, cried constantly through classes. The teachers weren't saying anything, either.

I hated it, because it was like the silence emphasized my heartbeat. Put it on a loudspeaker for everyone to hear, as if screaming "I'm guilty! It's me! It's all my fault!"

And that's how I felt. It was MY fault. Because if it weren't for me, Josh would still be alive right now.

But no.

No, it wasn't me who killed him. It was my teacher. It was her damn fault. If she hadn't said a freaking thing to my father, he'd still be alive right now. So it was HER FAULT.

But he was a bad person, after all. He had deserved it. Josh was a horrible person. He made fun of me every day. Called me fat ever since I had set foot in the school. Threw milk and cookies at me after lunch. Whispered mean names in my ear when we were passing each other in the halls on the way to 6th hour. So why should I feel sorry for him at all?

It was settled. I wouldn't feel sorry for him anymore. Still, there was guilt in the back of my head and my heart still thumped when anyone talked about it. I was scared people would find out. Find out who the Riddler was. Find out who I am and the secret I hold.

Scared the Batman would hear my heartbeat all the way from wherever he was in Gotham right now and come and get me. Take me away and torture me and call me names. Hate me and hate my dad. And hurt him, too.

No one understood.

People always look at him as the "bad guy". But do they even know who he really is under his mask and bowler hat? Do they even know how amazing Eddie is and how he'd do anything for his daughter? Do they know how he cuddles her and makes her feel okay and never lets anyone hurt her and never calls her fat or tells her to go on a diet? Do they know how he smells so good with his Dolce & Gabanna cologne when he hugs her and tells her that she's pretty even when she knows she's not?

Do they know how much I love him, and how much he loves me, and how my entire life would come crashing down if he were ever to be taken away from me?

No. They don't know him. They don't know him at all.

And he'll never be a bad guy to me. No matter how many people he kills and how many crimes he commits. Because he's Dad to me.

Just Dad. Like the cologne.

The bus ride home was quiet and gloomy, like the rest of the day had been. I hated it. I hated how it always rained and everywhere you looked was cement or neon lights and how Bruce Wayne lived in a big, huge mansion where it was nice and green and grassy and sunny. I hated how my dad liked Bruce Wayne, hated how he talked about him all the time and how he looks up to him so much, even though Wayne barely pays any attention to him.

Yeah, I pretty much hate Gotham and everything in it. I wish I could just move away with my dad and he wouldn't have to be the Riddler and I wouldn't have to worry about Batman and think about how much I hated Bruce Wayne. But that would never happen. So I might as well just forget about it.

I was both dreading and looking forward to coming home. I stepped through the front door, took off Ugg boots and slipped off my jacket. I hung it in the closet and I could hear the sound of the TV. I wondered what Dad was doing. Honestly, I just wanted to give him a big hug. It would help. A lot.

I stumbled into the living room where I found him cutting out letters from a magazine on the floor. I swallowed hard and looked at the ones cut out so far. I didn't like it at all. I didn't like when I saw him doing work for his "night job".

I hated it.

"Hi, Ade."

"Hi, Dad."

I sat down on the couch. So much for the big hug. I was feeling a little bitter now and he didn't seem to be in the mood, either. I watched the TV. It was the news. How boring and stupid. Hadn't I heard enough today? I grabbed the remote and muted it. Yeah, I had heard enough.

I wanted to ask so bad about Josh. Why he done it. How he had done it. When he had done it. But at the same time, when I thought about talking about it, my stomach got all twisted and weird and I felt sick, like I was going to throw up.

So I only stayed out there for a couple of minutes. Then I went to my bedroom and closed my door and started on my homework.

A couple hours went by and there was a knock at my door. I don't know why he even bothered to knock. I had no choice in letting him in or not. I guess it was more of WHEN he could come in: a couple weeks ago he had walked in on me in my bra and underwear. It would pretty awkward.

Another knock. I rolled my eyes. Seriously. I don't know. I think it was more annoying having to listen to his knocks. "Just come in."

He opens the door and steps in. "Are you finished?"

"For tonight, yeah."

"I don't have to go anywhere tonight."

I looked away, crossing my arms and staring at the posters on my wall. "What, finally finished your killing spree?"

He cleared his throat and sat on my bed. I wouldn't look at him.

"So, since we're both free, would you mind accompanying me to dinner, tonight?"

I looked at him then, in disbelief. It had been months since we'd been out to dinner together. I started thinking about all the yummy restaurants we could go to, and then about how empty my stomach was. I had skipped lunch today.

"Okay..." I said very cautiously, wondering if there were any catches.

"Fabulous." He stood up and strutted out of the room.

I laid down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. So many things were running through my head. I played with my hair and thought about Josh one more time.

A/N: Thanks for my two reviewers! It means a lot that you're reading, so I updated just for you! This chapter was sort of just Adelaine ranting her head off, but it'll get funner next chapter. Please keep reading. 3


	4. Chapter 4

He had previously arranged a booth at a very high-end restaurant. One of those that I'm sure Bruce Wayne attended often. I wondered if Wayne had tipped my dad off on this place. Probably. And that sort of sickened me. But I was going to put it to the back of my head because eating out with my dad was the best thing ever.

The best part of tonight was seeing Dad in a black suit. It was really nice and normal. The normal part was what made it the best. My dad hardly ever dressed normal, especially at his "night job". The things he wore were seriously ridiculous. More than anything, I hated the question mark suits.

So it was nice to see him in a plain, black one, looking quite nice and dapper. I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of girls talked to him tonight. I was totally up to my dad dating again, but of course, some things made dating complicated. Still, I put it to the back of my mind that I had to try setting him up.

I sat down and took the menu and started looking at it. I didn't know what half the things were, but every time I'd ask, my dad seemed to have the answer. The advantage of having a know-it-all of a father was that you never were left wondering about ANYTHING.

I put my menu down and just stared at Dad across the table, my chin in my hand. I was thinking about him. About Josh, and my teacher, and the woman he had killed earlier than that. I wanted so bad to ask him what was up. Of course, not here. I'd never do that here, but...

"Do you know what you're getting already, Ade?" he raised his eyebrows from behind his glasses and put down his menu as well.

"Yeah, you?"

"Is something bothering you, Adelaine?"

"Yes. Actually, there is." My tone was a little annoyed. I wanted to let him know it.

He licked his lips and crossed his arms, staring at me.

I looked away and ignored him, crossing my own arms. It was something I probably inherited from him. Just like everything else. But maybe I only associated things similar between us two because he never pointed anything out that I got from my mom. Maybe Mom crossed her arms, too.

The waitress comes to take our order and after he orders his fancy filet-minwhatever, I order a salad.

"A salad? That's all?"

I glare at him, as if to say 'shut up, you're embarrassing me!', but it doesn't stop him. He looked up at the waitress and stated loudly, "Make her a burger, medium-well and not a degree over. Put the tomatoes below the lettuce and the cheese on top."

I tried to deathglare him. I was so embarrassed and angry. God, leave it to my dad to embarrass the heck out of me, especially at a fancy place. I was trying to not eat so much, trying to stay on a diet, even though my stomach kept giving embarrassing, strangled cries. Not as embarrassing as my dad, though.

The waitress wrote it down and nodded without a word, a little snippy if you ask me, leaving with our menus.

"DAD!" I cried. "I'm SO mad at you right now!"

"You can't just have a salad, Ade-"

"I'm on a DIET." I growled.

He was quiet for awhile and I thought for sure I had set a world record. No one shut my dad up. Ever.

"Why?" he finally asked, not looking at me, his fingers fiddling with one another.

I shook my head. I didn't want to bring up the woman here. I really didn't. But he was really starting to get on my nerves. "Dad, I don't want to talk about your 'night job' here, but you know what I'm going to say."

He was quiet again, this time for the longest I've ever heard. Ever. He didn't say a word until the waitress came back with the food, 20 or some minutes later. The silence had been extremely painful and even though I was mad, I loved him and this was a good night and I wasn't going to wreck it by bringing up his dumb job. Stupid job. I hate that job.

And when he finally spoke all he said was, "Thank you."

I cleared my throat and looked at the burger and I finally couldn't take it anymore. "Talk."

"About what?" he politely asked, cutting his filet-thingy with much poise. He was good at being fancy while I really wasn't.

"Anything. I don't like when you're not talking. It makes me feel like something's really wrong."

"There's a possibility of that."

"What? You're mad at me?" I snapped, really annoyed now. What did I do? I don't get it. it was his fault he killed.

"Adelaine, don't speak to me in that tone." he said, so calm and collected. God. I hated when he was like that.

"I hate when you bring up all that tone shit!"

"You're grounded. Two weeks. You don't use that language, and you don't talk to me in that tone."

I was so frustrated I threw my napkin down and got up, storming off to the ladies' room. God. I needed to get away from him. Away from all this.

Seriously, I just wanted Josh out of my head because he was fucking EVERYTHING up in my life. I held my face and let some tears fall. I didn't want things to be bad between me and my dad. We were all we had. Just us in a little apartment. Together. It's always been that way. And it was hard to stay mad at one another, because we were so tightly packed in that hellhole.

It took awhile to collect myself, ignoring the glares from all those fancy women in there pampering, and went back out to the table and sat. I cleared my throat and cut my burger in half, and then took a big, satisfying bite. It was definitely worth the embarrassment it took to have my dad order it for me, because it tasted amazing.

The table was still quiet. I always had to give in first because he was just way too stubborn.

"I'm sorry for speaking to you that way, Dad." I finally said. I didn't really agree with apologizing in this situation, but I knew it just had to be done.

"I accept your apology." he replied, a little coldly.

"We need to talk at home." I whimpered, shyly. I was scared bringing the subject up again but it couldn't be avoided anymore.

"I know."

I just really, really wanted to make this work. I wanted it to be like old times. Like when I was younger and I didn't really know what Dad's "night job" was and who his victims were and we'd laugh the whole time.

I wanted to laugh and no one could make me laugh like my dad could.

"Can you tell me a funny riddle?"

He stopped eating and took out his iPhone. He tapped it with his finger a couple of times then finally looked up at me and said, "What do you call a deer with no eyes?"

I paused and thought about it. Blind? Of course, but way too obvious. Eyes...eyes..what sounded like eyes? iPhone. But with deer? I had no idea...iDea? iDeer!

"I have no I-deer!" I cried, happy with my (quicker than usual) answer.

"Yeah, that one was pretty dreadful. A monkey must have came up with that one." He put his iPhone away.

"Did you just find that one now?"

"Yes. I personally enjoy my own more."

"Me too." I smiled and took another huge bite out of my burger. It was fucking good. Like, one fucking FINE burger. Seriously.

"Of course mine are better. I am the great, the smart, the intelligent..."

I just rolled my eyes and gave a chuckle. Yeah. Dad always could find a way to make me laugh, even when I was really sad.

We got home and he insisted that I shower then get right to bed. I crawled into my bed and like he did on as many nights as he was there to do it, he came to my side and tucked me in.

"Goodnight, Adelaine."

"Dad, am I still grounded?" I whimpered.

"Yes."

"But..."

"I really don't tolerate whining, either. You know that." He kissed my forehead and I smelled him so strongly that I just grabbed the back of his head and held him there, right by me so I could smell it.

"I know. Just stay with me. Please. Just come in here with me. Just for awhile," I begged, "please."

"Fine, fine." He crawled over me then flopped next to me on the bed.

"Under the covers, too."

He complied.

I hugged him and snuggled up close to him, my eyes slowly closing and my brain shutting down. He was so warm and nice to touch. I loved this. It was like when I was little and I could smell his cologne really well.

"Why did you kill the fat lady?"

"I didn't like her."

"But why..."

"I don't like people like her. They are all so stupid, so incompatible, so-"

"She didn't do anything wrong, Dad."

"Stay out of it, Adelaine. You don't know the whole story."

"Well, tell me it then. I have the right to know when you kill my own classmate."

"That's something different."

"Just tell me, Dad. I just want to understand this."

He kissed my head and held it gently with his hand. "I love you."

I started to cry. Bawling, really. God, I loved him, too. I loved him so much. I loved him more than anything in the world.

He added, "Because I love you, I don't want you to hear about the damned, godforsaken things I have to do to provide you with a good life. You're too innocent to hear the things that I do and the reasons I do them. I don't want you to ask me about this. I don't want to tell you."

I cried harder. Dad was so amazing.

"I'm sorry." I choked.

"It's okay." He ran his fingers through my brown hair slowly and after I started sniffling and calming down, he crawled out of the bed. "Get some rest."

I whined, not wanting him to leave, but he insisted. He closed my door tight and I was left in my bed alone, rubbing my face into my wet pillow with all my horrible thoughts.

I was getting older and I felt that I had the right to know and understand his "night job" now, even if I didn't really want to. Whatever. I was going to let all of this go. Tonight was the LAST night I'd ever think about Josh and the woman and the stupid teacher and my dad's "night job".

I decided that night that I wouldn't bring it up anymore. Not one more time. Ever. But that didn't include the whole diet thing. We were going to have to have a talk about that, too. But honestly, we both hated confrontation and maybe it was easier to just keep it to myself.

Night turned to day and I woke up and had never felt more glad that it was Friday. School was like yesterday, but worse. A bunch of information about Josh's funeral and even more sobbing children than previously. Teachers lecturing about the whole thing.

"The Riddler needs to be stopped. Where is Batman? It's getting ridiculous."

I wanted to say 'shut up!' and storm out of the room, but I settled on politely asking to use the restroom. I ran there and rounded the corner to dash into a stall when I bumped into a pretty blonde girl, Kiara.

She was tan and blonde and beautiful with tons of make up. I never really talked to her but she was nice enough. Nicer than most of them. I knew she had been close friends with Josh. But I could forgive her for that.

It looked like she had been crying. Her eyeshadow was a little smudged and a streak of black was on her cheek. When she bumped into me, however, she immediately put on a happy face.

"Adelaine!"

I gave a small smile, trying desperately to hide my own tears by casually wiping my face with my palm.

"I'm having my fourteenth birthday tomorrow. I'd love for you to come. It's girls only. A sleepover! It'll be so fun."

I felt my face grow red and I couldn't believe this was happening. A girl like Kiara asking me to her birthday party? This was just crazy amazing. Today had to be my lucky day. I smiled big and I nodded. "I'd love to come!"

I was so excited. I haven't been to a birthday party since I was really little and more than anything I'd like to have a sleepover.

"Great." she said, smiling at me. I passed her and went into a stall, trying to hide my excitement. I didn't have to cry anymore but I stayed in there for a couple minutes more, thinking about what to get her for a present.

I got home and took off my boots, throwing my jacket on the rack as fast as I could, then bolted to my room. I threw open my closet and looked at my clothes, trying to figure out what to wear to the sleepover.

I had been planning my outfits for an hour straight when my dad knocked on the door. "Come in." I said, more cheerfully than usual and I wondered if he noticed.

"I was in my room. Why didn't you come get me and tell me you were home? I started to get worried."

"Dad, I was invited to a party tomorrow! By one of the most popular girls in the school! And it's a sleepover! And it's for girls only! And I think she really wants to be my friend!"

"But Adelaine, you're grounded."

My heart sunk and my stomach turned.


	5. Chapter 5

"But Dad!"

"No buts. Youre grounded." His face was stern and strict and I hated when he had to "parent" like this.

"Dad. Seriously. Like. This girl is uber popular and this could be my one chance to make-"

"You're grounded."

"DAD!" I screamed, stomping my foot as tears formed in my eyes.

He left the room, closing the door a little rougher than necessary.

I flopped on my bed and sobbed into my pillow, crying hard. How is this fair? How is this fair at all? I finally have the chance to make some new friends and I can't because I said ONE swear word to him?

And where would he be anyway? Out killing someone? While I laid on my bed alone like always and just cried?

Yeah. God dammit.

I was so mad I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled myself out of bed and I opened my door, following him out to the living room. Wheel of Fortune was on.

"Dad, I'm LEAVING!" I screamed, grabbing my coat. My eyes were all blurry from the neverending flow of tears.

"You're not going anywhere." He said, as he sat lounged on the couch with his feet up, in a t-shirt and sweats. I was so angry at how nonchalant he was being. God I hated everything right now.

"Yes, I AM! I AM this time! And you can't stop me!" I put on my coat and stormed out of the dumb little hellhole. I felt free when I left. Especially when I stepped outside into the cool air. Like I could finally breathe.

I started to walk and after awhile my tears stopped and I could breathe normally again. But then it hit me.

I had no where to go. I had no friends to run and stay over at. I had no family to spend the weekend with. I didn't even have any clubs at school to go back to.

Nothing.

Why was I so alone?

It never hit me as much as now. I sat down on a bench and held my face in my hands.

Dad was all I had.

My thoughts were interrupted by a limo pulling up. Lots of people were pointing and gasping and I wondered what the hell a limo was doing in the middle of such a shithole like Gotham.

Then I remembered Bruce Wayne.

I rolled my green eyes and it almost sickened to watch the suited man step out of the limo and walk casually into the dirty bar. What could a man like Wayne possibly want from such a dingy place?

A more rebellious side of me, most definitely from my father, wanted to follow him in and get the scoop. But I decided not to. I'd just sit out here and think about how much I hated Bruce Wayne. He reminded me of Batman. And I hated Batman with a passion.

It started to rain like it often did March. And then I felt stupid for sitting there for so long and I went back home.

Now I felt like a real asshole. I had blown up at my dad for absolutely no reason and now I had to return and apologize (again) and it would be all weird and awkward and not happy and in the end, this had solved none of my problems.

I got to our door and unlocked it, stepping inside and taking off my wet coat and hanging it neatly back on the rack next to my father's. Immediately the smell of lasanga hit me and I was glad that my father had cooked something good, almost like he knew I'd be coming back home in time for dinner.

I wandered into the kitchen and found him taking the pan of steaming lasanga out of the oven and setting it on the counter to cool.

"Welcome back." he said, dryly.

I had meant for a grunt to come out of my mouth. Instead, a stupid, high-pitched whimper.

He turned around and looked at me, taking off his cooking mitten.

"Sorry." I said.

"It's alright. Apology accepted."

"Sorry I missed Jeopardy."

"The contestants were horrible, anyway."

"Dad?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm sorry."

He walked around the breakfast bar and behind me, putting a firm hand on my shoulder. It scared me to think that that hand killed hundreds. Then he kissed my head and I could smell his cologne and all the bad thoughts went away. "It's alright." he repeated.

"So it's Friday night and I'm grounded." I said after a long silence. He finally pulled away and went to cut and serve the lasanga. "Yep." he said.

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Don't know."

"Do you have to work?"

"From home."

"How was work today?"

"It was fabulous. Jerry had another fight with his wife. She even came to the office today. Was dropping off his lunch when he told her he wasn't sure if he could 'take it anymore' and that if she didn't stop making him those lunches he might have to divorce her, because of something about 'last night'. It was pretty hillarious." He set the plate of steaming lasanga in front of me then sat next to me at the breakfast bar and picked at his own with his fork.

The whole Jerry thing was honestly boring to me and I had no idea why that fight was particularly interesting or humorus, but sometimes my dad was a little sadistic. I nodded, but that was it. Nothing else for me to say, really.

He continued on, "I was just working on my newest invention. Mr. Wayne even came in and checked on it. He said he liked it. I was flabberghasted and I explained to him how..."

I just listened. It was best to listen to my dad's rants because when he started he never stopped. Dad was really smart. Sometimes I wondered why he thought he had to do this "night job"...the day job surely paid enough. Mr. Wayne surely paid enough. But I didn't say anything.

"...and the monkeys didn't even know what I was talking about. They are so idiotic sometimes I can't even..."

I nodded again and started to eat, blowing the steam off the piece on my fork and putting it into my mouth. Damn, it was pretty good. Dad was an amazing cook.

"Adelaine, are you listening?"

I nodded, even though I really wasn't. I was enjoying the food. He kept going on and on and on about work. About how amazing Bruce Wayne was. He always did.

So I listened to him talk and we finished eating, but he continued to talk as he did the dishes. It lasted ages until I said I had to go take a shower. He told me to run along and to hurry it up, that it was past my bedtime anyway. I rolled my eyes. It was only 9.

I crawled into bed, wearing a tight, grey t-shirt and boyshorts, getting under the covers and savoring how nice and warm they felt. I'd give anything to be in my dad's arms right about now. He always tucked me in, so I called for him.

"DAD!"

He was in my room in just a couple of seconds, like he was right outside the door waiting for me to call for him. He came to the edge of my bed and tucked me in all nice and cozy.

"Dad...will you lay with me again?"

He gave a sigh and stood there for a long moment, a moment that seemed to be forever, and finally decided on the affirmative. I was ecstatic.

Throwing his glasses on my nightstand, he crawled under the covers and hugged me tight to his body, his nose on the back of my neck. It felt so good and nice and safe.

I closed my eyes. Nothing really mattered in this moment and it felt so nice. No Josh. No Riddler. No killing. It was nice and a very normal moment.

"Will you sleep with me?" I asked, almost pleading.

"Yes." he replied, his voice a little hoarse and I wondered if maybe he had been talking a little too much lately. I smiled at the thought.

I felt his body relax and then mine did too and we were just laying there in silence, in the dark, and sleep finally overcame me and I drifted away, leaving all of my worries behind.

The next morning, I plopped into the living room, tiredly rubbing my eyes. It was dark outside, even though it was in the morning, and I could hear the dim sound of rain on the roof. I guess it was still storming. How depressing.

Kitchen. Coffee. Now.

Walking like a zombie, I made it to the coffee machine and slowly started making the bittersweet wake-up call. I was really tired and probably still half asleep until I saw something sitting on the cupboard. I walked over and grabbed it, flipping it over. A stupid glittery mask. I got full of it when I picked it up. Stupid, green glitter.

I put it back down in disgust and tried to write it off until I turned back around and saw my dad's cane laying on the cupboard. Like a trail, I followed, and then found a pair of dirty green boots waiting in front of the door, lazilly kicked off, and on top of the TV, a pair of fabulous, green, sparkley gloves.

Dad must have been pretty tired last night. Usually he picked up after himself. All I could wonder was: how and why?

Why had he done something last night? I thought he had been sleeping with me. He had seemed so normal and good. Like on cue, he came stumbling down the hallway and out into the living room.

"Hey, Ade," he said, "smells like coffee."

"I'm making some in the kitchen..." I replied hesitantly. I picked up the glove. "What's this?"

"A glove. God, Ade, you need to get better at your riddles." He walked past me and started muttering to himself, "Of course, not everyone can be such a genius as I am, constantly coming up with hundreds of riddles that have never-"

"Dad. Did you go somewhere last night?"

"Why, yes, I did, Adelaine."

God. He was talking in that freaking stupid tone again. It was all superior and fake and not like my Dad and it reminded me of the Riddler and I didn't like it and I wanted to say, "Don't talk to me in that tone!", but I was too scared.

Then I thought about being grounded. And then I thought about the sleepover. And I thought about the stupid glittery mask and gloves and his cane laying out and I wondered why he got to have bad behavior but never got punished for it.

No. I did not want him to get punished. Stop thinking that, Adelaine. I do NOT want him to get punished. Especially not by Batman. Particularly not like Batman. I do NOT want it! Stop thinking about it, so it won't happen.

"Okay..." I said slowly and took out my coffee, blowing on it so it would cool faster.

"I'm busy today. Previous arrangements."

Great. Just like I thought. He was ditching me and I was going to be home alone and I wouldn't be at the sleepover.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. If I opened my mouth, something bratty would have come out and the thought of more punishment was overwhelmingly too much.

We drank coffee and then he left. I didn't know if he was going to work or his "night job" or what. He didn't tell me anything, just to stay at home.

Well I wasn't going to stay at home. I had better things to do. Especially since he was away. I could sneak out and go for a walk to clear my head, and return an hour later, and he would never know.

I opened the door and ran out. It felt so good to breathe again. I felt so free of everything, even more than before. The rain smelled good and fresh. I walked and walked, getting out of the city and into the more rural suburbs. I came across a pier and I stared out at the river. I don't know if it was a river, a lake, or the ocean, but I knew it was really pretty. Especially in the rain.

I heard a noise after a thunder's rumble. I had no idea what it was, but I was sure I'd never heard anything like it in my life.

I rounded the corner of the pier. The noise was getting louder and I didn't know what it was, but I heard muffled cries, too, and I was little scared. But the adventurous side of me couldn't sit down. I was excited, and I wanted to solve some kind of..I don't know. I wanted to try to be smart like my dad. If I could save someone or outsmart a bad guy or even beat someone up, he'd be so proud and-

"Now, what would you do if I gave you a riddle right now? Would you get scared? Excited? I know it makes it all the much better when you're all tied up like this, hanging above the water in an electric chair. Ohhhhhh, poor you. Poor, stupid, ignorant, you."

My eyes widened. Oh my god.

Oh my god, I was freaking out.

Oh my god, I couldn't breathe.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come with me."

There was a deep, rumbling, scratchy voice from behind me. I jumped, then I whirled around. A big, black bat.

I didn't know what to do. I was so scared. I couldn't talk. I couldn't move. My mouth was trembling hard, like I was really cold, but I wasn't. I was just horrified.

"Don't be afraid. Take my hand. I'll get you out of here safely."

I didn't know what to do.

What do I do?

I was so scared. But I took his hand anyway. I didn't know what was going to happen.

"Don't make a sound." he warned, but I only had like, two seconds to prepare myself and what he said didn't even really sink in until after I had been pulled up at a crazy fast speed and suddenly I was FLYING through the air and he was holding onto me and he was cold, nothing like my father. I held back a scream. It was like a rollercoaster ride and I might puke and it was nauseating but then it was all over and before I could really even think about the feeling, it was done, and we were still on top of a building. I looked down and I saw my dad in his stupid green suit.

I couldn't take it anymore. My mind had finally caught up with what was going on and I was starting to hyperventilate again. Oh my god.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Please, Batman, I-! Oh my god, I-!"

"Do you want to get killed?" he snapped at me, glaring.

I looked up, tears in my eyes. He really was as harsh as I always imagined. I hated it.

"N-no! You don't understand, he would never kill-"

"Look at him. He's about to kill that innocent citizen as we speak. You have no idea of what the Riddler is capable of."

"I DO! He's my-"

"Well, well. Looks like the big, strong Bats decided to show up! Welcome! Come to enjoy the show?"

"Let her go, Riddler."

"Gladly! With the press of the button-"

"You know what I meant."

"Or what?"

"I'm not in the mood for games, Riddler."

Tears rolled down my face. Why wasn't he saying anything about me? Didn't he SEE me? I wanted to shout out to him, to call his name and then have him catch me and hold me in HIS arms instead of these muscular, cold ones, to be able to smell his Dolce & Gabanna cologne and to nuzzle into his neck and hear his soft, gentle, Eddie voice, telling me that it was okay and that everything would be fine and we could watch a movie together or something.

"Hmph," he crossed his arms, fiddling with the knife that was in his hand, "What runs, but has no feet?"

Batman set me down, letting me collect myself. But I couldn't. I sobbed hysterically and held my face and cried. I wanted my sobs to overshadow what they were saying. I didn't want to hear it. I crawled down the side of the building. I was horrified but I needed to get to Dad. I needed him so bad right now I couldn't take it. Even if he was Edward Nigma right now and not Eddie Nashton. I needed him anyway. I stumbled forward. I couldn't even see: my eyes were blurry from the tears.

"The river." he answered calmly.

"Wrong. This girl," He snatched my arm, pulling me close. The girl in the electric chair squealed against her gag, thrashing against her confines. I wish I could tell her it was okay, that he'd never seriously hurt me, though he was holding me so tight I was sure I'd have big bruises on my arms tomorrow. "when I cut her legs off."

Batman swooped down off the building and almost landed on us, but my dad probably expected it, and had moved away, clinging to me tighter yet.

"D-dad..!" I sobbed quietly. What the hell was he doing? Was he SERIOUS?

"Riddler, let both of them go."

"Hmmm. You know, I'm not really in the mood, you're right. This rain is killing everything. I have a billion water riddles, and I'd really rather you answer them, but they're all so TYPICAL that I find them BORING. So I'll just leave you with one puzzle tonight," he threw a box at Batman, "and this girl with her legs. Only because I like to put on a good show and this set isn't working for me."

He turned on his heel and thrust the knife into his pocket, grabbing his cane and walking casually off. "Have a great day, Batman. Don't let the poor girl die. She's got 4 minutes and 24 seconds."

When I looked up, he was gone already. I'm sure Batman had experienced something similar. I had no idea my dad could be that fast.

I looked at Batman, still a mess. Tears were streaming down my face. I was all wet from the rain and a big bash of thunder made me jump again. I was all jittery. It was probably the coffee from this morning. It made things worse.

He first worked to untie and ungag the woman, only to find that there was a weird lock with a password necessary. The girl spurt out some weird riddle. Everything was weird. My mind was fuzzy. I could barely see right. I didn't even know what anything was. I tired walking away but before I could, Batman stopped me.

"Do you need help getting home?"

"No." I said plainly, feeling a little angry. I continued to walk, my steps rigid and uncertain. Sometimes they went left and sometimes they went right, and after awhile I turned around and Batman and the woman and the pier were no longer in sight.

I just had to worry about navigating myself back home, then.

"You WRECKED my plan! I had it all figured out, line by line, and then you came and I had to change EVERYTHING and now the riddle won't make as much SENSE and then the next victim won't-"

"DAD!" I screamed over him and he finally shut up, "I don't care. I just don't care. You left me at home and I could have been at the sleepover and-"

"That reminds me. You SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOME!" He shouted. He barely raised his voice. He was angry. Really angry. And I think it was the Riddler that was angry, not my dad. "Young lady, you are GROUNDED. No TV, no video games, no cell phone, and NO COMPUTER! GET TO YOUR ROOM, NOW!"

His voice was full of malice and hate. It was scary. Scarier than what I had seen, and scarier than meeting the Batman. It was horrifying. Deafening. And as I walked to my room and locked myself in, it was all I could hear in my ears, over and over and over.

I had never seen him this mad. And I was scared.

No computer, even? God, this was going to suck ass. All there would be to do was study the damn Greek vocabulary, I guessed. But I had to think about everything that just happened. My mind was racing too fast and nothing was focusing yet.

So I just laid there. For hours. Thinking.

Thinking about what I had seen, heard...what I had felt, with Batman, and what I had to live with now and forever.

"DAD!" I called from my room, like I did on all the nights when I wanted to be tucked in. There was a huge silence. You could have heard a pin drop. I didn't hear the floor creek. I didn't hear the mute of the TV. I didn't hear anything. Nothing changed.

"DAD!" I called again.

Still nothing.

"DAAAAAAAAD!"

Finally, I heard the creek of the wood floors and a hand on my doorknob, turning it slowly and opening the door. "Yes?"

"Won't you tuck me in?" I whimpered.

"Adelaine, I'm not in the mood."

Tears formed in my eyes as I sat up in bed, looking at him, his green eyes meeting mine. "That's not FAIR!" I protested. "You're my dad, you can't just decide when you want to talk to me or not! That's what I have to do, not you! You're suppose to always be there for me!" 

He shrugged, flicking a string off his shirt, looking bored. I couldn't believe him. Sometimes he could be so immature I wanted to beat him across the head.

"Dad!"

"No need to shout: I'm right here."

"Please, just come lay with me! And talk!"

"I don't want to, Adelaine. Goodnight." He started closing the door.

"WAIT!" I cried.

"What?" He stopped, looking down at the floor intently.

"Please come in here for awhile..."

"I can't talk about what you saw today."

I grumbled, "If I would have been at the sleepover I wouldn't have seen..."

"But you weren't at the sleepover, because you disobeyed. Now you disobeyed again, and you have even more consequences to deal with." He tossed me my schoolbag and I blinked.

"I hacked the school computer. Found the lesson plans. You've got a map quiz on Monday. Better start studying. You want an A on that if you want to get something back."

I nodded without a word and he closed the door. I understood I wouldn't get a proper goodnight. He was still in Nigma-mode. Oh well. He would go back to Dad soon enough. He always did.


	7. Chapter 7

School was _still _dreary. I couldn't stand it and apologizing for missing the sleepover just made it even worse. I had nothing to do at home, so I had studied pretty hard for the stupid map quiz. I got 55 out of 50. I even got the extra credit right. I hoped it would be enough to please Dad. To get him to even just pay _attention _to me-

"Fat ass~"

I turned around immediately, tears already forming behind my glasses.

"Hey. Are you gonna do our homework for us?"

Four boys surronded me. Mean boys. Eigth graders. Oh, god...

"N-no." I tried to stay strong, to stay assertive.

"But you're so fat, how could you not sit on your ass all day, anyway? You must have time to do it!"

"Yeah, we know you get perfect grades!"

I bit my lip. I wanted my dad here. I wanted him to protect me. To tell them to shut up. I know my dad could stand up for himself. He could do anything. And I was just too scared. I was too scared to do anything. Why did I have to be like that? Fucking obnoxious.

"Please..leave me alone..." So much for channeling my dad's strength.

One of the boys shoved a pile of papers in my face. "Get it done. Or else."

I didn't know what to do. I just didn't know what to do. Who could I talk to about this? I had no friends. My teachers just told my dad what happened and my dad _killed _them. What do I do?

I missed the bus, because of the whole event of the eigth graders. It was fine, I suppose since I was so "fat" I might as well walk home to exercise a little. It just gave me longer time to wallow in my sadness, thinking about my dad and how much I loved him and how he probably hated looking at me.

Hated looking at me because I was "fat".

I stumbled up into our apartment, taking off my shoes as fast as I could. Dad was sitting on the couch in a t-shirt and sweats, staring at the TV. My plan was just to run to the bathroom, to shower, then hide in my room for the rest of the night, but I couldn't help but just stop and stare at him: His brown hair was tossled, his thick glasses on the bridge of his nose, a slight stubble on his chin, his mouth a thin line, his green eyes piercing. They moved and looked up, meeting mine, like an arrow shooting through my body. I didn't know why, but I was so scared: I've honestly never felt so self-concious around anyone before. Not even the eigth graders.

"How did it go?" His voice was low and monotone.

"I got 55 out of 50." I just wanted to impress him.

"Good, good..." 

I almost cried again. I wanted him to hug me and be Eddie Nashton. Why wasn't he Eddie Nashton? Why was he still Riddler? Why was he still being mean?

Maybe after my shower everything would be okay, I had thought But even after I was clean and got into some shorts and a tanktop, I still felt a pit in my stomach, a knot in my throat.

"Adelaine," my heart stopped, "come here."

It was like the pit moved up to my _throat _and was choking me or something. I was so scared, but my body just moved by itself, going over to him and flopping down next to him on the couch. To my surprise, he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in close, kissing my head.

"I love you."

My heart melted and I just started bawling.

"What's wrong now.." he murmered, holding my head close to his chest.

"Dad...I love you, too..I.."

"You can have TV back."

"Dad..."

"What?" he sighed, just slightly annoyed.

"These guys today..." I tried to stop crying, sniffling and trying to be coherent, "They called me fat and co-cornered me and said I'd better do their..h-homework or else...and they were calling me names..."

His hand stopped moving back and forth on my head and just stayed still. After a long silence, he whispered, "You're perfect."

I sobbed, clinging to his t-shirt.

"You're perfect and I love you." he said.

"T-thanks...Dad..."

"I'll take care of th-"

"PLEASE!" I sat up, staring up at him with desparity. "Please! Please, don't kill them!" My hand wiped my face, the happiness of being accepted and loved by my dad disinegrating into pure anger and frustration.

"...Riddler is not going to kill them."

"Then why did he try killing that other guy?!"

"It had to be done."

I touched my arm where the bruises from my dad's fingerprints still lingered. It reminded of me how I felt in those odd moments the other day: how I wanted more than anything to be in Dad's arms and to just be with him, no matter who he was or what he did. Whatever.

I went to my room and started my homework. Being grounded really sucked. It was a few hours later, as I was turning off my lamp and getting ready to get in bed, when-

"Adelaine! Adelaine!" my dad burst into my bedroom, waving an envelope in the air. I hadn't seen him this exciting in a long time and I wondered what could possibly be up.

"Adelaine, you got a piece of mail from..from Bruce Wayne!" 


	8. Chapter 8

"Open it!" he shoved it into my hands, his own jittery and shaking.

"Jeez, Dad, calm down," I said as I ripped it open, a little eager myself, "okay. Here." I unfolded it and looked at it, took a deep breath, running my eyes over the letter once, then twice. Then a third time, because I couldn't believe-

Dad snatched it out of my hands. Too impatient, I guess. But for some reason, I couldn't let the goofy smile (another trait from my dad) fall from my face, no matter how annoyed I was.

"Adelaine! I'm so proud of you! This is perfect, this is amazing, this is just..."

My dad. Speechless. This _is_ a wow-moment. And then he hugged me and it was just all worth it, all of the pain and stupidity for the past few days, it was just _worth_ it, now.

"A full Wayne-scholarship to Gotham Academy!"

I started to cry. It was sappy, I know. But I didn't care. I didn't really care about anything, anymore. I was just so happy. I felt like...this was life changing. No more going to that hellhole every morning. No more getting teased. No more getting picked on or bullied. No more stupid teachers.

A fresh start.

A completely fresh start, where no one would know anything about me and I could maybe make some new friends and have a semi-_normal_ life.

"I'm so proud of you." he whispered in my ear, and I sobbed and clung to his back, still smiling from ear-to-ear.

I spent hours just _staring_ at the letter. The idea that I would be wearing a _uniform _and be hanging with the _rich kids _in just one week was insane. But before that, I had to worry about this mentioned "interview" with Bruce Wayne. In the letter, it simply stated that he'd like to run over my credentials and congratulate me in person for my outstanding grades. I wondered if this was normal. Why wasn't I meeting with the chancellor or someone like that? Well, whatever. I didn't care. I was too happy to care about anything else.

My dad wouldn't leave me alone. He seemed to forget completely about the whole "grounded" thing because he was offering to do whatever I wanted with me. It was nice. Everything was just so _nice_. Even the weather was happy: bright and sunny, not a drop of rain. Somehow listening to the car horns and motorcycle rumblings and city-noises every night didn't seem so bad, and I actually slept peacefully for the first time in months.

But the best part was all the attention and love my dad was suddenly giving me. I felt like all my hard work has finally paid off, just for these few hours with him, having a good time without having to worry about the night job, homework, or anything really.

"Dad, I don't have to go back to school at all, right?"

"No, I'll just call you in sick for the rest of the week." he grinned at me, and I grinned back as he ruffled my hair.

And that week was the best week of my life. Dad didn't even go out. We just did stuff together. We went to the movies, we went to the gym, we went to the park, we watched a Jeopardy marathon, we went out-to-eat, we even went clothes and make-up shopping for my interview: we did _EVERYTHING_. And it was perfect.

Then the interview came, Friday morning. It was nerve wracking. I was sort of nervous how Dad dressed me. Usually he backed off when it came to clothes, but he went all-out for this, and he was so proud of his creation I couldn't tell him no, even if I thought the stuff didn't exactly match or go together whatsoever.

And then there was the make-up. He was even worse with the make-up. I think he might have thought I was getting dressed up for Halloween or something, because I swore the glitter he was putting all over my eyes was going to look like a clown. Dad was always a little too over-the-top when it came to fashion. But when I looked into the mirror, it was just right: light green shimmer around my eyes, making them stand out even more, and even sparkle a little in the light. I blinked, the mascara bothering much just a bit, but finding myself too beautiful in the mirror to attempt taking it off. It had felt like a lot when he was putting it on, but really, it was flawless and I had never felt more confident. He leaned over me with his hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek, and I inhaled his cologne, and I closed my eyes and smiled. This was seriously going to be the best day of my life, no matter what.

On the drive there, I had to listen to a particular phone call. A phone call regarding the night job. But anytime I heard that name briefly mentioned, I strained my ears. He was important to me.

"You know how I feel about that, Harvey. Can't be getting that personal with you. I know I'm fabulous and all, but...hm. No. How about the one near Cape Carmine. Yes. Hmm..Harvey, stop with that," I crinkled my nose in disgust and could only imagine what sort of thing Two-Face was saying, "But really, no. Sunday evening? Hum..." he sighed, "Tomorrow evening sounds better to me."

Two-Face was okay, I guess. The only time I had actually met him personally was when I was very little, though I remembered it vividly (who can forget that _face_?). That was back when my dad still did business in our old apartment. I was supposed to be asleep, but a new voice had made me curious, and upon peeking around the corner into the dining room, I had become even more curious. Stumbling sleepily into the dinette, I was face-to-face (well, actually, more like face-to-leg) with the legendary Harvey Dent. The only other thing I remember 'sides the initial shock of seeing a man with half-a-face was him briefly ruffling my hair and continuing the conversation. Maybe he wasn't actually so legendary (seemed normal except for the face), but my dad has always talked about him like he was. Apparently they went way back and he was the closest thing to what I'd call a "friend". He calls it "business partner".

He is important to me because he knows who my mother is, and I listen to every conversation I possibly can for hints, though it never gets me far. Barely gets me an inch farther, to tell the truth. But it was still worth the chance (and the annoyance of hearing about the night job). I made a mental note to myself that tomorrow night, I'd try to scoop the situation out. I've been trying to rendezvous with him for the past couple years, but it's scary meeting with an ex-con, not to mention difficult getting past my father.

So we finally make it to Gotham Academy. It was intimidating, fancy, and big. Dad pulled up and came to a screeching stop, putting the car into park.

"Okay, Ade. Remember this is Mr. Wayne you're talking to. Sit up straight. Make sure your hair looks good. Talk clearly. Don't use slang. Impress him. Show him you've got your father's brains. Tell-"

"Dad! I know, I know. I'll do fine, jeez. Okay, bye!" I slammed the door shut, knowing he'd rant on and on forever if I didn't just leave.

I strolled through the halls, trying to look casual and like I fit in (though I knew I barely did), casually glancing at the maps on the walls to find my way to the office mentioned in the letter. My heart raced as I reached for the door, pulling it open, and I immediately cursed myself, realizing I should have knocked first. Quickly, I stopped beating myself up about it, and tried to get into a professional state-of-mind.

Here you go, Adelaine. This is what you and your father have always wanted. This is what you've suffered for. Do _not_ blow it. Stop sweating. Don't be nervous. Shut up, heartbeat. Chillax, you can do this...

He was sitting at his desk, his legs lazily crossed, a sly smirk on his face, a strand of black hair falling into his face (stupidly, perfectly), as he messed around with a Rubik's cube. He didn't even say anything, didn't even LOOK UP at me as I entered and sat in front of his desk. It was like this whole conference was a _joke_. And I remembered just why I had always hated Bruce Wayne so much.


	9. Chapter 9

"Um...Mr. Wayne, hi. I'm..Adelaine Nashton. The girl who just received the scholarship?"

"I know." He still wasn't looking up at me.

"Yeah...so...I'm here now..."

He sighed, running a hand through his flawless black hair, looking up at me with those piercing blue eyes. For some reason, they felt really cold and familiar. "Your grades are really impressive, Miss Nashton."

"Um...thank...thank you, Mr. Wayne." I made sure I sat up a little taller, clutching onto my skirt nervously.

"Are you involved in any _extra-curriculars_?"

I hesitated, then nodded no. Of course I wasn't.

"You live alone with your father, right? He must be so proud..."

"He is."

"...to have such a studious daughter, to the point where she doesn't even have friends or a _life_ so she can solely focus on her studies."

My face went hot and I felt both anger and embarrassment. What the hell did _HE_ know?! He didn't know anything about me! Even though it was pretty much true...

"I happen to know your father, Eddie Nashton. Works in the Neurology department of my company. A very bright man. Maybe a little too bright for his own _good_, but, still, _bright_." He finally threw the Rubik's cube down, and picked up the Gotham Gazette.

I didn't really have anything to say. At all.

He continued on, "Seems Riddler's been on a rampage, lately, huh? These mindless kills must _stop_."

I just nodded, not caring if he even saw my response or not. I was starting to turn really bitter towards this horrible man.

"Don't you just _hate_ the Riddler? I mean, who likes a _bad guy_, you know?"

"He's not that bad." I said, honestly. Mr. Wayne raised an eyebrow. Very high. I squirmed uncomfortably. Why was he looking at me like that? It was like he knew something I didn't...but I continued on, to try to make it less awkward, "I mean, I don't think he has bad intentions. I just think he's maybe a little _misguided_. And in the end, he's just trying to make people _smarter_, right? By making them solve riddles and stuff. He's just _helping_ people, when you think of it-" 

"Tying an innocent girl up to an electric chair above a river? Doesn't sound very helpful to me, _Ms. Nashton_."

My face was for sure red now, as I felt my palms sweating like it was Hell (and it _was_ Hell in a room with Mr. Wayne), "Well..w-well, anyway...aren't we here to discuss..my credentials?"

"Yeah, yeah. Credentials." He threw the paper down on his desk, pulling a drawer open and groping around, before pulling out a crumbled piece of paper. He held it above his face in almost an animated, but bored way, and recited it's contents, saying each of my classes and their grade. All happened to be A+'s. I didn't really realize I had been doing that well until he read them all in a row like that, and for some reason, I felt unusually proud of myself.

"Well, they're amazing. Not to mention you're in Calculus, which is a class normally taken by a twelfth grader. This is one of the reasons I've given you this opportunity: Gotham Academy services grades seven to twelfth. You will be able to take classes that stimulate and challenge you, as well as not have to travel building to building to take them."

"Thank you..." I said, a little worried about these so-called "high school" courses I'd be taking. Like he could read my mind, he said, "I'm sure you can handle it."

I sat there a little dumbfounded for a minute, and he just stared at me until I talked. I finally cleared my throat: "Mr. Wayne, thank you so much for thi-this oppurtunity. I will look forward to Gotham Academy and h-hopefully make your effort and money wor-worthwhile."

Bruce Wayne smirked at me, putting his feet up on the desk, leisurely leaning back in his office chair, picking up the Rubik's cube once more. "Do me a _favor_, Ms. Nashton, and make some _friends_. Be _normal_, for once. And _stay out of trouble_...don't want you making friends with the _wrong_ people."

Thank God this conference was almost over: I couldn't really stomach much more of his sick insults. I stood up and reached out to shake his hand with my clammy one. We did, but he barely tried, not even looking at me, and I turned and left the room, making sure to slam the door notably hard.

When I got back in the car, my dad made me tell every detail. Except, I left the whole part about the Riddler out. Didn't even want to bring that up, but for some reason, it kept nagging at my mind. Something seemed off about that conversation. Riddler hadn't been doing much of anything lately, let alone notable enough for the newspaper. Come to think of it, I swore the front-page of the paper had been a Sports article. But I shook it off. You sort of had to. You got used to doing it, when it came to those things.

Dad cooked an amazing dinner, and we watched a stupid movie together (apparently a "comedy", though nothing was really funny about it, other than the horrible acting and terrible writing, with the occasional flaws in the plot, which my dad eagerly pointed out). Things were calm, even the next day. But it was always calm before the storm.

"Dad," I leaned over the breakfast counter as he was taking a turkey out of the oven, "I hear you're meeting with Two-Face tonight. I want to come." 

"_Absolutely not_."

"Dad!" I whined.

"No. My business has nothing to do with you. I'm _not _going to get you involved in it. It's too dangerous."

"But-"

"_NO_! Do I need remind you: you're _grounded_?"

I closed my eyes and sighed, getting up and dragged myself back to my room. Okay, so the straight-up approach wasn't going to work. So what else could I try? My best bet was to somehow snatch Dad's cell phone and get Two-Face's number, and call it on my own at some point.

But even that was too scary, and in the end, I couldn't get the phone, couldn't rendezvous with him, nor did I hear anything about the meeting. Pretty anticlimatic, but with school starting, it didn't really matter. I could try to meet up with Two-Face another day. School was currently the only thing on my mind, and as I walked into my homeroom and sat in my designated seat (third row, fourth seat, pretty much towards the back), a boy caught my attention. He was blatantly _staring _at me from his desk, his mouth slightly open in, I don't know, awe, _amazement_? Probably not, probably more like _disgust_, but-

"Hi! I'm Richard. Richard Grayson." He was small, dark-haired, eager with large blue eyes, and beaming, holding his hand out to me, suddenly right in front of me. How he had moved so fast, I do not know. I hesitantly shook it, wondering if rich kids did that sort of thing often. Shaking hands at school. Weird stuff.

"I heard you're the new girl from Gotham East?"

"Yeah..."

"Awesome! You know, not many seventh graders get into Calc: it's nice to have someone my age here! Wanna eat with me at lunch?"

"Alright..." I was really feeling hesitant. Was this a joke? I had never been asked to eat with someone at lunch...

"What's your name?"

"Adelaine."

"Great! Come to this classroom at the start of lunch, and we'll walk there together!" He gave me another grin and sat down at his desk across the room. I fiddled with my fingers and couldn't help but watch him all hour, feeling like he was super familiar for some reason.

Then I went to Intro to Psychology class. Coming in the middle of the semester didn't really help, but thankfully none of the classes (besides Calc) were too hard, anyway. I guess the countless hours of extra studying and reading college-level textbooks that my dad bought me really paid off for this day. But the whole Psychology thing bothered me. Mainly because of the current topic.

"So does that mean if there is a criminal and he has a kid, then that kid would become a criminal, too?"

"It's all in the genetics," the teacher said, bringing up the next powerpoint slide, "technically, yes. That's how it's supposed to work. There is a certain brain composition that promotes psychopathic behavior, and if one of the parents have the gene, it's likely the children will, too."

That was so stupid. I would never be like my dad. Ever. What did this guy know, anyway? I was living proof that he was wrong, so I raised my hand boldly.

"Yes, Ms. Nashton?"

God, I hated when people called me Ms. Nashton. "Don't people have the choice to be good or bad?"

"Not necessarily. Recent studies have shown that..."

And I stopped listening. Because I didn't care. Because he was wrong, and that was that.

When I met and followed Richard into the cafeteria later that day, he tossed his bag on a table in the corner. I did the same with mine, still cautious as ever. I was almost waiting for him to start laughing and say "As if!" or something.

"I don't really sit with anyone else," he said, as he lead me into the lunch line, "I mean, I'm popular, but the people here sort of annoy me. A lot of them only care about money and status."

"Yeah..." I didn't really know what to say or how careful I had to tread. This kid seemed to be spilling all the beans to me, but maybe it was a lie to trick me...no, I had to stop being so critical! I shouldn't assume everyone is a bad person, that's something my _dad_ would do...no, I'm going to be normal. So just _trust_ this guy, okay? "...I really don't like people like Bruce Wayne."

"Why's that?" I could have sworn he smiled just a little, and that encouraged me to keep ranting.

"He thinks he owns everything. He thinks everyone should just automatically worship him wherever he goes. He wastes his money on stupid things while my dad works super hard to make just enough money to get by and stuff. I bet he hasn't actually worked a real day in his life. He has no idea what people like me have to go through every day. That's why I don't know if I'm going to like the people here...I'm scared they're all going to be superficial like that. Plus, he was really rude to me during my welcome interview thingy..."

"Yeah, a lot of the kids here are only nice to me because of my dad," he picked up an orange tray and headed for the fries, grabbing a handful and throwing them on, "I act cool with them, but really, they all irritate me."

"Who's your dad?" I asked, stupidly.

He looked up from his tray, now suddenly brimming with delicious fried food that I wouldn't expect to see anywhere near a private school, and I realized that I hadn't grabbed anything yet. "Bruce Wayne." he stated, almost like I should have just _automatically known_.

And I should have. How could I forget? God, Adelaine, you dumbass...you see this kid on the news _all the time_. And then you went and just totally badmouthed his dad right in front of him. Your _one_ friend. How could you do this?! My face must have gone really pale or green or _something_, because he started laughing, filling up my tray for me with a burger and some fries. I didn't mention my diet, I couldn't, I was too shocked at my own retardedness...if that was even a word. God, Dad would kill me right now.

"It's okay, Adelaine. It's actually nice: no one's ever dared talk about my dad in front of me like that!"

We headed back to the table and I was surprised he still was talking to me and wanted to sit next to me. I was sure he was going to get up and leave any second, but he got comfortable and took out his math book from his backpack, pulling it out next to his tray and flipping it open, grabbing a pencil out of his pocket and starting to scribble on a piece of looseleaf while stuffing his face.

"I just would wanna know why," he bit the eraser on the pencil, looking over me with his wide, bright blue eyes once he had finished his burger, "Why you assume he hasn't worked a day in his life?"

"Because..because he acts like...I don't know..." I was clearly flustered now, "Because he just...he just seems that way. And you know what?" I gathered all my courage together, sitting up straighter, and looking Richard right in the eyes, "I hate him because he reminds me of _Batman_. He acts like he's doing all this _good_ stuff for everyone, but really, he's wrecking people's _lives_ and he _knows_ it. Tearing people's families apart, and making people _scared_ of him...innocent people, like _little girls_...who have nothing to do with _anything_ bad..."

"_Has Batman done anything to you_?"

Yes. Hell yes. Batman has wrecked my entire life. I had nightmares about him all the time, almost every night, since I was little. Even after he "saved" me, I only felt even more endangered that I had been so _vulnerable _to him...

"Yeah" was all I said. Richard chewed on the eraser thoughtfully, then looked down at his paper again, continuing to work the problem. Unlike me, he could talk while he worked, not to mention he was still munching on some fries, too...he must be one hell of a multitasker. "So what do you think of _Robin_?"

I looked up from my tray and saw him smirking prudently. I couldn't help but laugh for some reason.

"What's so funny?" He then frowned.

"Well, I don't know, really..I dunno why I laughed there. But, I guess Robin is okay. He's better than Batman, obviously, since he's only _brainwashed_, not actually the one doing the brainwashing..."

"You think Batman brainwashes people?" The boy was still solemn-looking as ever and I guessed he was probably a big Batman fan. Wow, I was just totally wrecking my chances to make a friend, wasn't I? This is why I shouldn't be here, I can't even talk to anyone...

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't...I just don't think his ways are right. Like I said before. Robin just goes along with it because he's basically forced to, I guess. That's what I mean by brainwashing."

"Oh." he replied, looking back down at his homework once more. "Hey, were you paying attention today? I don't get number twenty-one." He shoved the paper and textbook towards me. I looked down at it. He added, "Also, if you don't want your food," he pointed to my tray, "can I have it?"

"Sure..." I pushed my tray towards him. "And, um. Twenty-one is easy, you just do it like this..."

I pointed to the textbook, taking the pencil out of his hand, writing a couple of numbers down on his paper. I realized how he was leaning in closer and closer, and when I felt his shoulder on mine, I pulled away fast. That was freaking going WAY out of the boundaries. But Richard didn't seem to mind, and that made me even more uneasy...

"Thanks." He said, smiling at me. It was contagious, and I smiled too, but I wondered about why he had asked me about Robin...

So then the time came to walk home from school: that dreadful time of day. When exiting Gotham Academy, I saw Richard. He was with a red-haired girl that I had seen in my Literature class (she didn't really strike me as special though). Despite being with a very pretty girl, he grinned and waved at me, getting into a limo. My face went a little red and I waved back, feeling so happy to finally have a _friend_. And weirdly enough, it was a guy.

Guys haven't really been particularly pleasant to me in the past. In fact, I thought I had hated guys (Josh...) forever. But Richard was nice. And he was changing my views.

And I thought about that the entire way home. Having a friend, someone to talk to, someone who understood...well, let's not go that far, but you know. It would get to that point someday...maybe. And that thought was comforting and nice, though my blood pressure started to rise when I started getting back to the ghetto part of town, being reminded of the Psych class. Seriously, _what_ did that teacher think he knew? Evilness couldn't run in genes..._could it_? And even then, Dad wasn't..._evil_. He was just slightly misguided, with a little problem with priorities and what was right and wrong...he wasn't _psychotic_. In fact, he was super smart. How could someone who was "psychotic" be smart at the same time?

Whatever.

I lazily pulled the keys outta my bag, unlocking the door and walking in, only to be greeted with Harvey Dent pointing a gun at my forehead.


	10. Chapter 10

"Ahahaha, sorry, sweetheart! Got a lil' ahead of myself." He cleared his throat, still chuckling under his breath, and held out his (good) hand. "Harvey Dent."

"I-I know who you.._are_." I was still trying to calm my heartbeat. That was a terrible scare. "Wh-what do you _mean_, 'ahead of yourself'?"

"Your dad told _us_ to hold down the _fort_." His voice changed, it got more gravelly and deeper. It was sort of bizarre, "didn't want anyone _unwelcome_ to come bursting in while he was out conducting _business_."

"But...he never, like, does that...I mean, he never has before, not since I was really little..."

"Ah, he's been _paranoid_ lately. Hell, We'd be too. Hell, _we are_. Don't know how he manages the whole 'family' thing."

"Really?" And it hurt because this guy, though considered my dad's "best friend", knew more about how my father was feeling than I did. No, not only did that hurt, but that _pissed me off_.

"Yeah, just look at you now." he pointed at me casually.

"W-what?"

He flipped a coin and threw it on the side of his hand, looking at the result before speaking. "Well, see, there's a tracker on your shoulder, dear. I mean, it's _right there_."

"W-what? Tr-_tracker_?!" What was the weirdo saying? Was he really this crazy? I glanced down at my shoulder, but didn't see anything 'til he reached forward and picked it out of the fold on my blazer, holding it in front of my wide, green eyes with his thumb and index finger.

"See? He's been going on about you having a stalker of sorts. I think this proves it."

"W-what?! Why does he think that? He never said _anything_ like-"

Two-Face laughed again. "Oh, sweetheart, we think there's _a lot_ of things he doesn't say to you."

I swallowed hard, trying, really, with all my might to keep the tears inside. Think of things that weren't sad, like good grades and popsicles and Wheel of Fortune...

"Anyway, We think he'll be home soon."

"I'm right here."

I turned around, finding my dad still in his Riddler clothes. Jesus Christ, it was broad _daylight_! What was he thinking? There were so many things I had to ask him-

"Give me that." he snatched the tracker from out of Harvey's hand, then crushing it with his own. "Adelaine, what have you been _doing_?"

"N-nothing! And I want him," I pointed to the, well, practically _stranger_, standing next to me, "to get out and not be a part of this!"

"Thanks, _Harv_. You know I appreciate it." he gave a big grin (it was something only the Riddler does) and kissed Harvey's _good_ (ew) cheek. And _so _many things about that really _disgusted_ me. Was it an act of the Riddler or did my dad really have feelings for a guy-particularly, one with half of a damn face and a criminal known far and wide. Dammit all, life sucked either way. Harvey winked at me and threw on a ski mask that was laying on the counter on, leaving the apartment.

Fuck.

Fuck this.

"Mind telling me what's going on?!"

"You said you wanted to see him and the house needed a little protection." he shrugged, pulling off his sparkley mask, getting glitter on the floor for sure, heading to his bedroom to replace it with his glasses. "And look, Missy, we have to have a talk."

"You're telling _ME_! Oh, no, I mean, you're NOT, because there's so many things you've been _KEEPING_ from me lately!" I followed him, raising his voice. I was already grounded, so who cares?

"Adelaine, I don't like your tone." Oh, FUCK the tone shit! Not _again_! He continued, sliding out of his blazer and folding it neatly on a chair, "There's been some disturbances around our property lately. A variety of cars I've never seen before, blinds cocked open from the outside, dust on the window sills disturbed, not to mention the _tracker_ that was placed on you today."

And the way he pointed it out like that, it _scared_ me. This was getting creepy. "But we're on the ninth floor, who could-"

"Batman."

My heart stopped, all breathing ceasing for that moment. Batman...stalking me? Did he follow me home that one night, and has he been watching me? Oh my god, that thought alone just...

"I believe he followed you here after he found you at one of the sites of attack. Something like that."

"But what would a _tracker _have to do with-"

"Listen, Adelaine, I don't want you to go play miniature _detective_." He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. "Leave it up to me. Just be _careful_. And whomever you're hanging around with at that new school of yours, _stop_."

But I was freaking out, I couldn't be careful, I couldn't leave it up to _him_-"He's going to figure out who you are! You're gonna get caught! You're gonna go to jail," tears started falling, "they're gonna take me away from you, he is, just like I always thought. He'sgonnatakeyou to jail, no, tothe_asylum_,and-"

"Ade." His arms were around me and he smelled so good, _sooo_ good..."Shhh."

I sobbed uncontrollably, clutching onto his back, my shoulders heaving as I gasped for the air to breathe. It just didn't seem to be coming in, too much was going out.

"Nothing bad'll happen to us. We're just going to keep living normally, like we always have. I promise, everything will be okay. As long as you act completely normal, even if he is spying on you, he'll have no suspicions anymore. Everything will get cleared up in a matter of, probably, _days_." 

"Please don't get caught, please don't get caught, please _don'tgetcaught_..."

"Of course I won't. No one can out smart _me_. I just have to figure out who would plant a tracker on you and _why_."

"Okay...be safe..." I didn't want to let go, but he was pulling away, so I had to. His face was softer than usual, and I wish he would have just applied some cologne so I could smell it good, but it was only lingering in the air, just so, and I could barely recognize it. I wanted to drown myself in that safe smell, to lay in bed and just smell it forever and ever, and not have to worry about Two-Face or Batman...

"Stop worrying about me." he snapped, "I'm fine. _You're_ the one you should be worrying about."

I smiled weakly and stumbled to my bed, pulling my school bag up on the clean covers and starting to work on math.

I had just finished my Calculus when I had gotten up to switch my bedroom light off. As I turned to return to my bed, I saw something shadowy dart across my window. I had a really sick feeling, a pit in my stomach. It took the most courage I have had in a long time to go up to the window and pull back the blinds, only to find nothing, as expected. But when I pushed them back closed and got into my bed, I couldn't help but stare over at the window for the rest of the night, feeling _watched_ and _examined_.

As expected, I got no sleep that night. Zero. Zip. Nada. The night after was the same, but the third night, things were better. I was still grounded, but it was almost over, and I was excited to get to go on the internet again. Riddler activity had seemed to have ceased: at least, nothing bad enough for the newspaper, which was always a good sign.

The only thing was that Richard wasn't really interested in me anymore. Maybe I really had blown it with the Bruce Wayne comments, or maybe he thought I was a psycho after I said Batman brainwashed people (it was _true_), but he wasn't talking to me much either way. Just a smile or a wave before or after class, perhaps in the hallways. I only had one class with him, after all. And the pretty redhead was always too busy and popular for me to even try sparking up a conversation. I heard she was the Commissioner's daughter and decided I automatically hated her, anyway.

Whenever I thought about Two-Face (often, because I had so much time to sit in my idiotic classes and think), I always thought about the same stuff. One, does he really have a thing with my dad? And two, who is my mother? It's the second question that really gets me. What kind of person was she? Is she still alive (probably _not_)? Was she pretty? Did she know Batman? Was she aware of my father's identity (Edward _or_ Eddie)? Did she try raising me at first, or was she gone all along?

I wish I knew. If I had a mother...

Well, we'd do _everything_ together. I'd have someone to complain about Dad to and talk about how painful it was keeping this secret from the world. Someone to shop with who actually knew what they were talking about when it came to fashion, and someone to do my hair and make-up with me or tell me how to get a date with a cute boy.

But I was pretty sure she was dead. So whatever. Can't think about it for too long at a time, or I'll just start crying, and that's no good. So _anyway_...

When I got home, there was spaghetti on the stove and _damn_, did it smell good. My dad was standing over the stove, still in his work clothes, stirring the sauce idely. He didn't really even look at me when I came in.

"Hi, Dad." I said, pulling off my Converse.

"Hi, Adelaine. Hey, we need to talk about something."

My chest got all tight and my stomach dropped, and I felt _really_, really sick and scared. Almost too scared to ask what about. "O-okay...what?" I went into the kitchen and sat the the breakfast bar.

"We're moving."

"W-where?"

"Closer to Gotham Academy. I don't like how you're having to walk to school now, since there aren't any buses that run there. It's not very..._safe_."

I blushed, the sick feeling subsiding, feeling happy that my dad was worrying about me like this. I looked down at my lap, trying to hide my big smile. "Okay...did you find a place, yet?"

"Yes."

"Is it legal?"

"Of course."

"House or apartment?"

"Apartment."

I winced. I hated living in this apartment: "Are you sure that's...like, safe?"

"Of course. Please, don't question me." His voice was playful, not harsh, and that relieved me. In fact, I really enjoyed his tone right now...

"Okay~" I said, cheerfully, getting up and grabbing some OJ out of the fridge. "Dad, let's do something fun together."

"Like what?"

"Let's go to a movie or something..."

"Hmmm...okay." And that made me just so...so happy.

{-&-&-}

"You are absolutely NOT wearing those, Adelaine."

"But _Dad_!"

{-&-&-}

** A/N:** I know this story does not have the most favorites, reviews, or followers by far, but I feel so connected to my readers. They have been reading this fic for so long! I love this fic. I've really grown to it and it always gives me a sense of pride when I upload the next chapter that I don't get when updating any of my other fics. Maybe it's because I hate OCs so much and I managed to make myself fall in love with Adelaine. I appreciate all of your comments on her: I'm so glad you enjoy her. I thought I could just take a little time in this A/N to discuss some things about the Universe that my fic takes place in. _You don't have to read this if you don't want to, but I feel like it would make the story a little more enjoyable if you knew what I was intending while writing this. _So please enjoy my rants as I discuss answers to some questions I have been receiving, in order to make up for the short-ness and uneventfulness of this chapter:

We'll start with Eddie. So this version of Eddie is obviously sort of a Frankenstein one...because this is my own Universe, and I like to pick my favorite parts about the character and get to put them all into one. So, here's what I have in mind: basically, looks are canon with Arkham City. His job is inspired in Tim Burton's interpretation in Batman Forever, except in this Uni, he doesn't get kicked out of it and he's in the Neurology department, basically figuring out things like how to make children's computer games to make them smarter, or machines that can somehow affect the brain in some similar sort. Another trait taken from the BF film is Eddie's obsession with Bruce Wayne. When you look at it, it's complete irony. And that's what makes it so perfect.

He wears his glasses that he wears in Arkham City, but he does not wear contacts, therefore, when he is out as Riddler, he actually is a little blind. He tends to be more vibrant, such as in Batman Forever, using some glittery accessories and chooses a little more flamboyant outfits, as well as wearing a mask like he does in most of the comics. The outfits aren't as "joygasmic" as in BF, but still, it's to the point where Adelaine feels a little disgusted when she sees something sparkley. He also always is wearing one of his signature bowler hats and has got his Arkham City cane. Also, his eyes are piercing green and his hair is an auburny-brown.

When he's at home, he wears sweats and a neutral t-shirt. Like Adelaine says, he's obsessed with watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune every night. No one exactly knows why, other than he likes to answer the questions way before the contestants and sound like the smartest smarty there ever was. Most likely an egotistical thing. Age-wise, very early 40's. Height, not substantially tall. Weight, very average, though he does like to eat a lot (nervous habit?), however, Adelaine wasn't blessed with his fabulous metabolism.

Which leads me to discuss the prelude to this fic: Adelaine's raising and relationship. Eddie did not raise her by constantly questioning and riddling her every waking second they were together. He did not push her to like question marks, nor did he take extra precautions to make sure she ended up "smart". In fact, he stayed away from the topic as best he could, as he honestly_ did not want to get her involved_. In the end, Eddie is a _human being_. This is one of the overarching themes I'm really trying to convey throughout the fic: bad guys are people, _too_. He probably is the most human of all the Batman criminals, so he was the easiest one to picture (for me, anyway) in a "family" setting. As he mentions in one of the previous chapters, he does the "Riddler" act so Adelaine can have a good life. In this AU, he does not become Riddler until she is born. His previous job was working with the CSI, which is why he ended up in Wayne Ent's science department: a good resume will get you places. In one of the comic universes, he is a detective before he is Riddler, so this is sort of derived from that concept. Now, we do not know the circumstances under which Adelaine was conceived, and I'm not willing to reveal that quite yet, but it does not have anything to do with Eddie being Riddler. So, even though Adelaine is not the only reason he is Riddler, it's one of the main reasons. Side reasons being his ADDness, love of riddles, attention-seeking and a couple of other mental issues that don't necessarily have to be pointed out.

So Eddie tries really hard to keep the lives of "Riddler" and "Adelaine" as separate as possible. He was pretty good at it until the time she ran into him at the pier, and by then, he was freaking out so bad he pretty much, like he said, messed the whole thing up, forgot his lines, couldn't think straight, etc. This was because he was utterly horrified to see Adelaine there. He had thought that by grounding her, she would be protected while he was out being Riddler. He has done this in the past and basically does anything he can to make sure she is safe while he's going out for "work": hence, why he usually works at night, when he knows Adelaine is sleeping calmly in her bed. If it takes getting down and snuggling her in bed to get her to sleep restfully, he will do it.

If you were to ask Adelaine how she was raised, she'd mumble something about her dad pushing her hard. People probably assume that this was pounding her with riddles and IQ tests, but in reality, he just always pushed her to learn herself. He taught her the reward of doing good on tests and particularly the usefulness and greatness of having knowledge. He often compared her knowledge to his own: to him, encouragement, to her, it brought her down, yet made her work harder, because that is her personality. It probably made her develop a complex where she felt like she wasn't smart enough, and constantly being compared to him, and if she wasn't as smart as he was, he would be disappointed in her. And she doesn't want him to be disappointed, because he is truly all she has at the moment. So it wasn't about forcing her to be smart, it was about encouraging her to learn and work hard on her own. Due to having a crappy childhood himself, parented also by just a Dad alone, he wanted her to have the absolute opposite of his childhood. He tries his hardest to show her as much love and affection as he can muster, but in the end, it didn't turn out as he had hoped, as Adelaine still came out with some mental problems and a complex for wanting to be the best for her father.

Next would be her weight: now, this was the original conflict of the fic. This conflict is going to come back up again soon, as it really is one of the top underlying problems in Adelaine's mind. In the end, it is usually the reason that Adelaine does the particular things she does. She really pushes people away, even if she thinks she's being open about things, and that's mainly due to her insecurities. She is only in seventh grade, but that's when things like (if I remember middle school correctly) weight are truly a source of bullying and struggle. Now, after reading the very first couple chapters, one may be wondering: 1) Why is Adelaine fat?, 2) Why does Riddler kill a fat woman?. I can't reveal his thinking behind the murders in the beginning of the fic just yet, nor can I really discuss the death of Josh, but the answer to the first question is: 1) Bad metabolism, 2) Her mother's genetics, and 3) Eddie spoiled (and still does) her rotten. If not with love and attention, with his cooking and food, probably because he felt that was the best way to make up for the lost time he had with her, as well as the rift made by his night job.

Lastly, their relationship. Rereading earlier chapters, I can see how some moments seem almost like there is something more than a Father/Daughter relationship. There is, in fact, something more going on here. Perhaps not _exactly_ in a pedophilic way, but, both Nashtons have pretty weird brain issues going on, even if it seems like Adelaine is semi-normal. She is actually very unstable, but being the narrator, it obviously isn't visible, as she chooses what to say to the reader, rather than the reader seeing things for how they are actually played out. You can start asking yourself now: "omg whats real and whats not". My point being, they are both extremely needy of each other. There is some sexual tension, as there is a young, blossoming teenage girl and a man who hasn't gotten laid in ten-or-something-years living together in small quarters. If you asked Adelaine about it, she'd be like, "Ew, that's absolutely disgusting! I'd _never_ look at my dad like that!", but if you look closely at her descriptions of her father, she takes note of some odd things and really latches onto them: ie, his cologne. She is barely sexually attracted to anyone, as she has been hurt so much by boys from her school, and is jealous of other girls since they get positive attention from them. It's assumed she'd then have a complex for _men_, but on the contrary, Batman wrecks that theory. Do remember that, overall, Batman is the thing Adelaine fears most. So in the end, the only male figure possibly left for the picking is her _father_. Still, she's not really mature enough to be thinking of sexual things at this time, so her adoration takes more subtle forms, such as his strong hold or caress, the smell of his cologne, the tone of his voice, or his footsteps coming down the hall.

And in the end, some people are a little frustrated with how nothing ever seems to get resolved: Josh, the sleepover, Two-Face, Adelaine's mother, a bunch of things. This is because in real life, problems don't resolve themselves right away. When Adelaine has the time and is willing, she will focus in on the problems and attempt to solve them. For now, she's busy with whatever is currently on her mind. If she wants to make a pie, and the reader is wondering who the heck just got killed, she will go make the pie and describe the pie in plenty of detail and wait a couple more days to figure out who the victim was, probably ending up just briefly mentioning it as she sees it on the front page of a newspaper on the bus and then just go on with her day. Because that's just how she is, and if she later finds out why that person was killed, she will share her feelings on it. But until then, reader, you are left with what she decides to give you.

Wow, I just ranted _a lot_ and I didn't even get to discuss everything I wanted to! Well, that's okay, because it's probably time you get a break from reading this crap anyway. Thanks for your time, and be on the look out for another update soon!


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